


Texan Steel

by Azurehue22



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Cute, F/M, Fallout, Fallout 4 - Freeform, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurehue22/pseuds/Azurehue22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Maxson is a cowboy in Western Texas set in the mid 1800s. (1829, to be precise) A fluffy romance fic I'm working on. Won't be too terribly long. I'm back in action!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stitches

He stumbles into a saloon, blood pouring from an open wound across his cheek.  
"Damn son, what happened to you?" someone cries out.  
"Someone, get a doctor!" another yells.  
He snarls, wincing at the sudden pain, slamming a coin on the bar top.  
"I'll fix it myself. Get me a whiskey."  
"You're getting blood over my-...yes sir!" 

The barkeep cowered at the look on his face, getting him his glass and retreating quickly. Unknown to him, a young woman, a doctors apprentice, saw the whole ordeal. She knew that without immediate care, he could get septis or bleed to death.

Acting quickly, she gathered her things and exited her room above the bar, going to find him. She found him in the backroom; where whores languished on cushions, watching him in horror. None of them would go near him; he was too angry, too bloody. Lucille touched him on the shoulder, her pale fingers shining in the dim candle light. He snarled, ready to snap at her to leave him alone, but stopped short when she saw her face. 

Her breath caught in her throat. Though his face was split open on cheek, he certainly was handsome. His eyes were bluer than the sky above, and piercing. She held up her black bag. "Let me fix your wound, before you bleed to death." "I got it handled...ma'am." He had been holding a cloth to his face in order to staunch the bleeding, but it was soaked through. She shook her head. "No, you don't. Just, come on." She took him by the wrist, expecting a fight, but was surprised at how easily he gave in. She lead him upstairs to her room where she sat him on her bed.  
"Never had a lady get me in bed this easily before. I'm quite amazed." He chuckled, wincing again. She shot him a look.  
"Listen...I have no money to pay you. I was just planning on..."  
"Bleeding to death? Head wounds can be fatal if not stitched right away." He rolled his eyes.  
"I know how to handle myself, ma'am."  
"Don't. Its Ms. Lucille."  
"Alright. Ms. Lucile." She brought out a bottle of clear liquid, pressed against a cloth. It stank of liquor, and not the kind you drank.  
"What are you doing."  
"Don't be a fool. Do you want to get blood poisoning?"  
"I, AH!" She slapped the cloth to his cheek, which bloomed scarlet. His eyes screwed up in agony, tears welling beneath them.  
"God damnit woman!" He bared his teeth, snatching the cloth away with one hand and grabbing her wrist with the other.  
Fear filled her eyes. She had only wanted to help, what would he do?  
"Sir! I need to disinfect the wound. I know it burns but it'll dissipate!"  
"You could have warned me!" He snarled. His grip was incredibly strong.  
"Let. Me. Go." She struggled to keep her voice steady, but the smallest of wavers hit the last word. He relinquished his grip, sitting back on the bed. Tears dripped down his cheeks. "I'm...I'm sorry. I should have warned you."  
"Doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact I can't pay you." She shook her head, taking the bloody cloth from his hand and throwing it to the side.  
"It doesn't matter. I don't want payment." He raised his eyebrows.  
"What do you want?" She chuckled, turning away to dig for needle and thread.  
"Practice. I'm a student." He cocked his head.  
The bleeding had been staunched some with the alcohol, though the finest of streams ran down his chin, dripping onto the bed clothes. He wiped it away, irritated. 

"All the way out west? Shouldn't you be back East, where everyone else is? Not much out here." She shrugged, pulling out the needle, threading it, and holding it up.  
"You get more practice when people get hurt more. Besides." She sat down next to him, observing the wound.  
"The Indians have some great medical tricks I've learned; like numbing agents." She reached into the pockets of her dress, drawing out a vial of green liquid. 

"What the hell is that?" He looked alarmed. She smiled.  
"It's Aloe. Aloe Vera." He gave her a look.  
"Don't worry, this won't hurt." She dotted a smaller cloth with the solution, dabbing at the sides of the wound. He felt the sensation disappear from his cheek, though her finger still produced light pressure.  
"Can't feel anything."  
"That's the point."  
She began to stitch. It was slow work. He gave her side glances every no and again, appreciating her beauty. Long blonde hair done up in a fancy bun; with curls trailing down near her ears. Blue eyes like babys breath. Skin pale like a porcelain doll. He broke the silence.  
"The names Arthur."  
"Good name. Arthur. Knew a man back east with that name."  
"Was he a good man, to match the name?" She laughed; a musical melody.  
"He was a general in the war. Lead the union to victory." He smiled.  
"I'm no general. I just wrangle cattle." (War of 1812; story takes place in 1829)  
"Tell me, cowboy...how did you get this wound?" She was almost done; just putting the finishing touches to the top of the gash. He opened his mouth, closed it, before speaking.  
"Cat."  
"Pardon?"  
"Wild cat did it. Was stalking my cattle."  
"Don't you have a gun?" She was perplexed. Biting the thread with her teeth, she stepped back to admire her work. He turned to face her.  
He shook his head, a mixture of anger and laughter crossing his face; this time it seemed directed at himself rather then her.  
"It got stolen. I'm...-"he paused, looking at her intently, before continuing. "I don't mean to sound...improper but I got drunk one night and someone stole it. Not like I can waste time looking for it, so I just carried on. Had to take the cat out with just a knife."  
She was amazed. Mountain Lions were vicious, especially the western range ones. She sat back down next to him. With the gash closed, she could fully see how handsome he was. Angled jaw, dark, furrowed brow. The gash would leave a prominent scar.  
"Well, you'll have a scar to tell the story of how you took on a mountain lion bare handed..." She turned to pack up her things, but he grabbed her wrist.  
"I...How can I thank you?"  
Again, her breath caught. Vulnerability laced his gaze. She smiled. "By promising not to take a mountain lion without a gun again."  
She pulled out of his grasp, packed up her things, and turned to go. "Ms. Lucille, please. I'd like to see you again."  
She paused at the door handle. Turning to look at him, she noticed how anxious he was. Such a difference to the belligerent man she had met only a half hour before. Setting her bag down, she walked back over to him. "I'll be in town for awhile. You planning to stick around?" She smiled coyly. He grinned. "If you are, I will."  
"I must have made quite the impression, Mr....er...?" "Maxson. But call me Arthur, please." He reached for her hand, pulling it up and grazing it with his lips before grabbing his hat from the bedside table.  
"In that case, I'd love to see you again, Arthur."  
"I look forward to it."


	2. The Day After Rain

She didn't expect to see much of him; he was a cowboy after all. But she ended up catch glimpses of Arthur as she went about her week. Maybe she was seeing what she wanted to see; maybe he wasn't there at all. Still, their promise to each other kept her quite light hearted despite the rain that pummeled the dusty street day after day.

It was dreadful, really. Livestock stood knee high in mud. Shops were flooding, and everyone was caked in a mixture of manure and dirt. She spent most of her time treating colds and bad feet, prying toe nails off rotten nail beds and mixing up herbal concoctions for sore throats.  
"Lucille! Someone here ta' see ya!" Gruff and course, the voice of her mentor rang clear over the din of the rain on roof.  
"Coming, Mr. Drey." she answered, ushering the wide eyed patient out of the room with a smile. Stripping of her gloves, she ducked into the main waiting room: Bright cheery, if peeling a bit, paint covered the walls; keeping the gloom to a bare minimum. Candles in brackets lit the otherwise very dark room, illuminating a mans face.  
"Arthur!" She smiled, crossing over to him. She fell just short of arms reach. He smiled broadly, showing off the scar that was healing nicely.  
"Came to get these stitches out." He glanced at the Doctor, who eyed him curiously.  
"What happened to you, boy? Fall off your horse?" he asked.  
"Cat."   
"What?"  
Lucille couldn't helped by chuckle. She smiled at Dr. Drey.   
"He was clawed by a mountain lion that was attacking his herd."  
"This man took on a mountain lion all on his own? How did it get close enough to scratch you?" Drey scratched his scruffy beard, looking incredulous.  
"I uh, didn't have a gun. Just a knife." Arthur shrugged.  
"She fixed me up real good." Another winning smile in her direction.  
"Well, lets get your stitches out." She ushered him to the back room. It was darker here; she lit another torch, placing it in a bracket near the ceiling. Arthur sat at the table, looking at her intently.   
"Ya know, I hear out east they have something called "Elek...Electrik..." He knitted his brows, trying to remember.  
"Electricity, I think. Lights that don't burn."  
"That's amazing!" She smiled, rummaging around for forceps and scissors."  
"Could use it out here for days like this."  
"Anytime in this dreary room, really." She faced him, a smile creeping up her face.  
"Where have you been, anyways?"  
"Tending my herd. Had to move them to higher ground." He winced as she started in on his face, pulling the stitches out was an uncomfortable process.   
"What kind of cattle to you raise?"  
"Longhorn. Got about 50 now." He scratched his chin, eyeing her.  
"Sounds like quite a chore."  
"Not really. Lazy work, really." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Normally we herd other peoples cattle. This is my own herd, so it means more to me; and why I don't have as many."  
"Have you named any?" She figured the answer would be no.  
"Yes. A few. Got a bull named Steel. There's a cow he tends to fancy; her name is Sarah."  
"Odd name for a cow."  
"Named her after an acquaintance I met in Nevada."  
She finished with a flourish, pulling out the last thread, leaving him with a puckered scar that would last forever. He ran a hand over his cheek, smiling.  
"You did great work. You sure you aren't the doctor?"  
She blushed, turning away.  
"I still have a lot to learn."

He stood up. He really did tower over her; she was quite the dainty lady. Beautiful, too. He'd been busy with his work, but she was what got him through those rainy days in the saddle. Knowing that he'd see her again when he returned to town.  
"I'd like you to teach me somethings."  
She turned around, wide eyed.  
"What could I possibly teach you?"  
He chuckled. "Next time I get scratched by a cat, I'd like to stitch myself up."   
Her lips twitched.   
"So you want basic first aid training?" He figured that's what he needed. He nodded, noting her face. She wasn't against the idea. Still, she seemed tentative.   
"I don't want to get in the way of your work. Just...whenever you have free time."  
"Well, once this rain quits, if ever, I'm sure I'll have some free time." She looked bright, her face rosy in the glow of the torch.  
"It'll quit. Clouds are breaking to the west." He lead the way out of the room, through the dark corridor and into the main room. It was empty now; the batwing doors swinging slightly in the wind. The rain had quit for now, though the sky was still gray and turning.  
"I better go. Thanks for taking care of my cheek." He looked like he meant to reach out and touch her, though felt better of it. He turned, awkwardly striding out of the clinic. She grasped the table behind, unsure what her pounding heart meant.

A few days past. The rain cleared, just as Arthur had predicted. The streets dried and people started laughing again. Her work cleared up, leaving a massive gap in her time. She found herself wondering what to do, if he would show up, and when. She got her answer, on a calm Sunday morning.

Church was just ending; rows of people exiting the chapel, all in their Sunday best. Children played in the grass. Adults set up tables and blankets for picnics. Skirts wove in and out of the dusty street, parasols held high to block the late-morning sun. The air buzzed with cheer after the week of rain. 

Lucille craned her neck, folding back the sides of her bonnet, trying her best to catch a glimpse of him. She knew it was crazy, always looking for him, but she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a bee to a blossom. She craved to spend more time with him, even just a moment would do.

She had resigned herself to another day of boring darning when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Startled, she turned around, only to gasp in pleasant surprise.  
"Arthur!"  
"One in the same." He tipped his hat.  
"I didn't see you as a man of church..." She smirked.  
He faked affront. "Ah, Lucille. You wound me. I am the Lords biggest follower." He winked.  
"He gave me my cattle, after all."  
She laughed.

"What brings you around? Besides Church, that is. You staying for the usual picnic outside?"  
He shook his head.   
"No. Just wanted to speak to you." He took a breath.  
"Wanted you to know that I was serious about learning first aid. Figured you may have..." He smiled slightly. "not believed me."

She raised her brows. "I...well, I didn't think you were serious." They began to wade through the crowd; she kept her eyes on him; noticing in the firm muscles of his legs working through his chap covered jeans. His spurs jingled a tune as he walked.  
"I..." He bit his lip.  
"You what?"  
"I wanna get to know you, Lucille. I may just be a cowboy but I don't think I've ever met someone as bright and hopeful as you." His face was a brilliant scarlet as he said this. Lucille tried to hide her elation.  
"You must not have met many people then. I'm just a doctor. Or, trying to become one, anyways."  
Face still scarlet, he smiled. "I've met quite a few ladies; none of them compare." He took of his hat, directing his gaze somewhere across her shoulder. 

"Just...I'd like to see more of you."  
"I have no issue with that." The line came out of her, quick and unfettered. It was her turn to blush, but Arthur smiled broadly.

"Well, in that case, would you care for a walk?" He held out his arm, and invitation she couldn't pass up.


	3. The Spaniard Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange stranger arrives, causing tension between the couple.

That had been 3 weeks ago. The next few were a blur of activity. The town was alight with gold hunters, pioneers fleeing the crowded East, and Spaniards provoking Americans into fights. Arthur had stayed out of it, observing from a far. When he wasn't visiting Lucille, he stayed out of the small town, preferring to spend warm nights in the saddle near his herd. 

He still hadn't shown her the herd. Never had the time. He didn't know how to ask a fair lady to ride with him; besides, her skirts were far too large to fit comfortably on horse back. It was a fact that grated on him; his entire life was relying on this herds success. He sighed, gripping the reigns tighter as he prodded his mare into a walk.

He didn't come out here to fight a wife. Lord knows that he never expected to find one. He was a wanderer; he went wherever he saw fit, never settling and never finding a woman to keep him happy. 

Here in this backwater Texan town, however, he found her. A beautiful drop of sunshine on the dried prairie grasses. He was a hawk, and she a songbird; two species never meant to cross. He watched a buzzard fly on the currents that pushed the dry air across the landscape. It let out a mournful cry, echoing his mood. Doubts laced his mind like cobwebs. 

Without Lucille, he would have moved on to the next territory, one they call New Mexico. Yet she pulled on him like he was a fish caught on a fisherman's line. He couldn't leave. Not yet. Watching the sun go down, his cattle silouetted in the grassy field below, he found extreme peace in all. Tomorrow he'd go back to town, pick Lucille up, and they'd go for a ride.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was perfect for a romantic walk along the outskirts of town. Stars dotted the inky black sky, forming clustered constellations she recognized. A light breeze rustled her skirts and bent the grasses, bringing the scent of dry brush to her nostrils. She wished more then anything that Arthur was here to enjoy it with her. More and more she thought of him; always chastising herself. She could not marry a cowboy, and yet. Yet, something drew her to him. Maybe it was the wrongness of the relationship, or his ruffled good looks. Dark eyes and untamed brown hair.

No...it was his entire personality that made her want him. She'd had many suitors; all after her families wealth or her supposed beauty. All of them fell flat into the puddle of rejection. She was too young to get married, and none of them met her tastes. It was part of the reason she moved out west. To pursue her love of helping people and expand her knowledge of the world. Arthur wasn't like any of them. He was everything she wanted. Intelligent, caring, good with his hands and hard working. She needed someone she could start a family with; not someone who tried to win her over with shiny objects.

She smiled, looking up at the stars, wondering if any of them held a similar woman looking instead at her on a balmy night. She turned to head back into the saloon, when something caught her eye. A man, large and imposing, leaning against a wall smoking a cigar. In the lamplight, he was certainly a catch; dark, handsome features. A scruffy beard creeping up his jawline. He wore the clothes of a Spaniard. Dislike creeped into her stomach. She wasn't a massive fan of the Spanish. They always picked fights with people that just wanted to make a living. It was all apart of this stupid fight going on between the United States and Spain. 

"Lucille?"   
She turned her head away from the man, into the pooling light of the saloon.   
"Dr. Drey?" He blocked the light; all she could see was his large-bellied silhouette.  
"I think you should come back in. Getting awful dark." She nodded, turning to give one last look at the man, but he had disappeared into shadow.   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Whoa, whoa. Easy there." He patted his mare, Ele's, neck, who snorted in resignation. They'd ridden hard all day to get to town from where the herd was, and she was sweaty mess. He dismounted, lead her to a trough, and paid a stable boy to towel her down. He turned to cross the road to the clinic, but stopped when he saw a horse out front. A dark bay stallion. As if sensing his gaze, it turned to look at him, ears drawn back. 

The clinic never got much horse traffic. Generally, everyone who needed it, walked to it. Why then, was this strange horse he'd never seen out front. He approached it, looking for a brand. It was an expensive breed, a thoroughbred. That kind of horse you never saw this far west.  
"Who do you belong too, fella? Haven't seen you around these parts." No brand. Odd. He shrugged, straightened his hat, and strode into the clinic.

The cool dark interior felt good on his sunburned face, and he greeted it smiling, before pulling up short. Lucille was there; her pale skin glowing in the dark light, a smile playing on her lips as she spoke with a Spaniard. His clothes gave him away; all bright colors and leather boots dyed with blues and reds. He'd wanted to take her for a walk, but now...She noticed him, grinning.   
"Arthur! I haven't seen you in awhile." He crossed the room over to her, eyeing the man, who looked at him coolly. Every bone in his body screamed that he was competition, a rival. He forced those thoughts down, however, extending a hand.  
"Arthur Maxson." he smiled.  
"Danse." He didn't accept his hand, instead looking down at it as if Arthur was beneath him. His voice was thickly accented. Dislike prickled in his belly. He continued to smile, withdrawing his hand.  
Lucille noticed the tension. Tucking some stray hair behind her ears, she crossed to Arthur.   
"Maurice here was just telling me of his medical practice in Spain."   
"Ah. A doctor as well?"   
Danse smiled, though Arthur felt no warmth.   
"Si. I came to over with the troops, mean to set up another clinic in Mexico. Though, this territory has better...assets." He eyed Lucille, who didn't seem to notice the double meaning. Arthur boiled. He tipped his hat to Danse.  
"Well, I have a few words for the little lady, if you don't mind." Danse eyed him for a moment before looking at Lucille.  
"I look forward to getting to know you, bella dama." He took her hand and brushed his lips against it before leaving, grabbing his hat from the hook in a carefree way. Arthur didn't realize he was tapping his foot on the wooden floor before she took his hand.

"He came in and introduced himself to Dr. Drey and I. Quite an interesting gentlemen."  
"Uh huh. Did you know 'Bella Dama' means 'Beautiful Lady' in spanish?" He blurted, eyes still on the door. She frowned.  
"No, I didn't. Whats wrong?"   
"I...nothings wrong, Lucy." She'd told him to call her Lucy on their last walk together, and the name still had some getting used too. She smirked, before turning away, picking up some papers that had fallen to the floor.  
"I get the feeling you two dislike eachother. History?"  
"Never met the guy before." he stated.  
"Well, just give him the benefit of the doubt. He was telling me he'd like to help the clinic."  
He snarled inwardly. He doubted the guy was even a doctor.   
"Anyways, why did you come? Need something?"  
"I wanted to see you. Ask if you'd be up for a ride Sunday afternoon after the sermon." She brightened.   
"I'd love too! But...could we take a walk now? I have so much to tell you."   
Arthur shook himself mentally. There was no need to be so threatened by Danse; he could be exactly what he said he was. He grinned.  
"I'd love too."  
\--------------------------------------

They took a longer walk than usual, around the lake that was about a mile away from town. It was a great expanse of water; all shimmers and ripples. Every now and then a fish would jump the surface to catch a dragonfly. Frogs croaked and insects sang from its shores. He'd brought Ele, and laid out her saddle blanket on the ground for them to sit on.   
On the way, she told him about Danse, his plans for the clinic, and her excitement. While excited for her, he couldn't help but think there was something majorly wrong here. Where did this guy get his money? Where was the proof he was going to do anything other than screw them over? He reached into the folds of his vest for a cigarette, lighting it. Silence.  
"You...you're awfully quiet." She looked anxious, her hands folded neatly on her skirts. He wrapped an arm around her. Taboo touching were his style, and she didn't mind in the slightest. She snuggled right into him.  
"A lot on my mind."  
"I know you dislike Danse. Just give him a chance."  
"It's not that I dislike him." Nah, he hated the guy. Just based his gut feeling alone.   
"It's that you have zero proof that he's anything he says he is. You have no idea if hes a doctor, or where he gets his money. He could just be swindling you and Dr. Drey."  
She pulled away, offense etched into her face.  
"I know that. I wouldn't have made it this far west if I didn't know a few things. Listen, the clinic is falling a apart. We'll take any help we can get. Source of his money be damned."  
He didn't know that.  
"I..."  
"The roof leaks, the floor is covered with mold. Barely any light gets through the grime on the windows." She threw up her hands.  
"I'm sorry, Lucille." He grabbed them, holding them close. She struggled but his grip held strong.  
"And I don't need you telling me things I already know in that condescending tone." Her words stung.  
"I'd be...I'd be...well, I'd hate for something to happen to you." Her eyes were so big and blue.  
"I think I can handle him, Arthur."  
"I'm just letting you know." How badly he wanted to kiss her. To let her know she was his, and his alone. But he held fast to that notion. He let go of her hands, and she recoiled. Tension strung between them. He got up, determined to ignore the ache in his heart.  
"Let's get you home." She nodded in silent agreement. They walked the entire way without saying a word, until he walked her to saloon door.   
"Hey uh, Sunday? You still want to walk?"  
"Yes, of course."  
"I'm glad. I'd like to show you the herd." He managed a smile. She returned it.  
"That would be great. I'll see you then, Arthur."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, lighters were around. They were invented in 1823 and this is 1829. Pretty cool, huh? This isn't supposed to be 100% historically accurate, but I do minor research. :) Danse is not going to reflect his in game character; he's merely acting a part.


	4. Coyotes and Bulls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucille finds out something interesting about Danse. Arthur figures out he can't be apart from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am only using Danse's appearance and name here. The character in this series is def not our Danse, don't worry :)

Days passed, turning into months. The seasons changed; the dry hot summer changed to a cool, wet fall, and rain fell in great torrents, mudding the street and bringing in a flood of patients to her clinic. During those months, however, it had gone through many changes; the biggest of which was relocation to a sunnier area of the town. Lucille was so happy that Mr. Danse had come to town; she cared not why he was here, so far from home, only that he was helping her meager clinic grow and with that, her ability to help people. 

Renamed Drey's Medical Clinic, it serviced the ill and the injured; setting bones and treating coughs. Danse had even paid for a small apothecary where she could sell and mix natural remedies from the land. She found herself growing attached to the charming Spaniard, and spent hours at a time on walks with him, picking herbs and discussing the latest medical science.

"Did you hear about the latest in numbing pain?" She smiled, squinting into the sun as they sat on a quilted blanket. She had packed a picnic; realizing with a jolt it was the same food she had brought to the lake with Arthur. She hadn't seen him for months; figuring he had bored of her and had moved on.   
Danse lounged, reading a small almanac of events that had taken place around the world. He shook his head, a slight smile playing his lips.  
"Nitrous Oxide."  
"Nitrogen and Oxygen? They numb pain?"  
"Yes! It's a gas that puts you to sleep. In small doses, it can numb pain as well!" She meant to reach into the basket for a bagel, but he took it, pulling her gently towards him. She tumbled on top of him, her breath shallow.  
He was a big bear of a man. Well taken care of. Certainly handsome; dark eyes and dark brows that lit up when he smiled. He lacked the warmth that Arthur had shown her, and he had none of his street learned intelligence. He was all book smarts. Still, he was pleasant to be around, and she liked him quite a bit. Still, she felt things were moving too fast. He seemed to eager to settle down with her, and while she knew she wanted a husband, she wasn't sure Danse was for her.  
He grinned, tucking a stray bit of hair back inside her bonnet.  
"I wanted to ask if you'd mind selling some of my medical supplies from back home in your store." He wrapped his hands around her, his fingers entwining her own. She nodded.  
"Of course I wouldn't mind! What kind?"  
"Cough syrup, sleep aids, ya sabes. Spanish remedies." Random Spanish intermingled with English. It had been hard for her to get used too, but once she did, she was grateful; she'd learned quite a bit.   
"Just lay it out in the back and I'll set up a stand."  
"Si. Oh and..." He gazed at her.  
"Yes?"  
"I'd like to have an office in the back. You have a spare room, no?"  
"Of course you can have an office." She pulled herself free, sitting up.  
"You helped build the clinic." She patted his cheek, feeling the bristles of his beard. She found herself not wanting to pull away.  
"Bien, muy bien." He winked, sliding out from under her and standing up. She did the same, smoothing her dress before being swooped up into a kiss. Her eyes widened, feeling the weight of his hands on the small of her back. His lips pressed against her, inviting her to join in, but she stayed stock still, surprise holding her back. He relented.  
"Lo siento...but you are such a beautiful woman, I couldn't resist." He pressed his forehead to hers softly, before breaking away. She stood in silenced as he put their things away, picking up the basket.   
"Shall we head home?"  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The stars shone brightly above him, but he felt none of their cheer. He'd been sleeping in the saddle for over a week; but he refused to go back to town to sleep on a bed. It had been months since he'd spoken to Lucille, let alone seen her. His heart ached with rejection and bitterness. He'd seen the Spaniard with her, leaning in close, making her laugh, and realized he wasn't on par with a rich doctor who happened to host an exotic accent.

His herd slept soundly around him; their horns sticking up like daggers in the moonlight. Light breezes shifted the grasses around Ele's hooves, tickling the exposed skin his worn chaps let through. He desperately needed a bath. Absently, he ran a hand down the crooked scar on his right cheek, drawing away when he reminded him of her.

'Get a grip on yourself, you damned fool.' he growled.  
'There are plenty of women. She wasn't worth your time.' Ele lifted her head up suddenly, her ears pricked and head turned towards a sound he could not here. He reached out to scratch her forelock, peering where her gaze lead.  
"Whadya hear, girl?" She nickered softly, legs shifting anxiously. Ele and him and been in their fair share of fights; one with a cat, another that included pistols and lots of death. She was no stranger to combat. He heard rustling behind him, and drew his pistol, thumb resting on the hammer. He dared not speak. If it was a person, he'd know soon enough. If it was an animal...speaking may just trigger an attack.  
"Easy Ele..." He whispered, turning her around. She nickered again, resisting his order as she dragged her hooves through the grass. Behind him, his herd was waking up; their soft calls breaking the silence. He stood frozen for awhile, listening to the soft rustles around him, trying to guess what it could be, before landing on a single target: Coyotes.

"Damn it all." He gritted his teeth. Their first instinct would be to get his herd to run, breaking them up and scattering them through the plains. There they would pick off the smaller ones. He'd have to face them head on before they made that move.

They dove. Howls broke through the night. His heard let out frightened shouts, closing in on each other. Ele raised her head and whinnied. He raised his pistol.

Firing just as a coyote leapt for him, teeth bared. It caught it in the forehead. He whimpered as it died, landing on the ground in a crumpled heap as the rest dove out.

One, two, three...four five. Five left and they circled him, their tongues lolling out of their grinning faces as they nipped at Ele, who swished her tail violently as they passed her.  
"Easy girl. Just a pack of dumb dogs."  
They recognized him as a threat. One leapt for his leg, grabbing on, but only getting his boot. Unable to reach it with his pistol, he elbowed it in the face. It snarled, backing up. The others wooped and hollered, snarling. In the moonlight he could see every detail; the soot on their white faces, dried blood clinging to their snouts. Saliva dripping from ones fangs as it came close again.

"It's me or you, boys." He barked. Ele reared. They scattered, falling back before coming in for another assault. The herd was being woken up into a frenzy.   
"I ain't letting you get to my herd."  
Behind him, one latched on to Ele's flank. She cried out in pain, lurching into the darkness. He turned and shot at the offender. It hit it in the shoulder. Wounded, it limped away, howling in pain. The others shot off at his herd while he struggled to get a handle on Ele.  
"Whoa girl! You're fine! Let's go!" He reared her in, hearing her hooves dig into the dirt as she jumped around, pounding the ground covering the distance to the herd as the coyotes darted around him.  
The herd started to move. In a panic, they'd run over the smaller ones, his newest contenders for breeding. He couldn't let that happen. 

"Faster, girl!" He urged. His hat flew off, landing somewhere behind him. He didn't care. He pulled to the left and she lunged in front of one. It stared shocked for a moment before he let out another shot, moving on too quickly to see its body fall. 

The cows were running in a tight circle now, protecting the calves and smaller members from the remaining three. One snapped at Steel, who ran it down, ripping its stomach open. Entrails poured out as the other two avoided the bull. He aimed another shot, but this time missed. 

"Damn it!" Only two shots left in the cylinder. He'd have to make them count. He pulled hard left, coming out in front of the animals, who balked, attempting to avoid him. One stopped for too long.

"Stay away from my herd, you filthy hounds!" He bashed it in the head with the butt of his pistol. It howled in pain. Deterred, the last one fled, running like a ghost through the night. 

"Ey now! Come on back ya'll!" He called to his cattle. He spent the next twenty-five minutes getting his herd back into order. Steel worked himself up into a frenzy, nearly goring him before realizing it was him.

"Oi! Steel it's just me big fella." He patted his flank. Steel snorted indignantly.  
"You did good, boy. He's buzzard food now. Good job protecting your gals."  
Another sputter.

He'd have to clean up the carcasses, find his hat, and count his cattle now. His heart still racing, he realized something, however. He couldn't let Lucille go. She was his and his alone. He had found something with that girl. He'd go back and get her.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mis buenos amigos!" Danse smiled. Lucille looked up from her desperate accounting attempt of this months profits. Since Danse had started selling his products, things had been up and down. Services had been up, but sales of her natural remedies and his questionable line of products was down.   
Three men walked in. Spurs and boots and cowboy hats, they looked the part, but all had the thick accent of Spain, and scars laced their faces like cobwebs. Her stomach flipped in unease. She looked back down, attempting to make her small. They didn't glance at her, instead walking towards the back and into the office where Danse led them. He eyed her, eyes narrowed, before joining them. She heard the door shut.

Sighing, she got up, sweeping the dirt from their boots up. It had been a month since that picnic, and she no longer felt like a bird let loose in a big bright world, full of opportunity. Instead she felt caged. Danse sat in the back, counting the money, keeping tabs on everything, while she was left to run the clinic. Drey was out; he had gone out East to pick up supplies and wouldn't be back for another few months. It was just her and Danse. 

She had felt that after the kiss, she was set. Courting was only a stepping stone to a good marriage, after all. Danse, however, seemed more interested in pushing his product line than her. He forced her to work long hours, all the while she heard him in the back discussing things with his collegues.  
Still, the clinic was doing better than ever before, and she had him to credit for that. She crossed over to the shelf holding his product, picking up a glass bottle of some clear liquid: 

"Infant Sleep Aid! Solves crying and teething pain!"  
She turned the bottle around, incredulous. Nothing was labeled on the back. Curious, she opened the bottle, crossing over to her desk as she did so. Drawing out a flask, she poured a small amount into it. It ran like water. There was no viscosity to it. Frowning, she smelled it. Nothing. It was nothing more than water. 

Danse was running a scam. She poured the liquid back in, replacing the cap, just as Danse's office door opened. The three men came out, all of them staring at her.  
"Esta es su senora bonita, Danse? Ella es un buen partido." They walked up to her, stopping just short of arms reach. She froze.  
Danse laughed. "Don't be silly, men. You've seen her before."  
"Never at this angle. Before she was always bent double working the floors!" They laughed as one. She frowned.   
"This is Lucille. Lucille, have I introduced you to my friends, yet?" He wrapped his arm around her. She clung to his warmth, her hand still gripping the bottle behind her back.  
"Meet Miguel, Francisco and Jose. All from Spain, I'm sure you know. They've come to help with the buisness."  
"Danse, about that..." She attempted, but he cut her off.  
"I'm leaving for the saloon. Make sure you get your work done, ella bonita?" Something inside her snapped, but she kept her cool outwardly.  
"Of course. Enjoy yourself." She watched as they crossed the threshold, all of them throwing backwards glances at her.  
"Apuesto a que paraceria grande en la espalda!"  
The door slammed. She sat heavily on her stool, anger flooding through her. Disgusting pigs! Danse had never acted that way towards her before. She gripped the bottle so hard she felt it may break. Slamming it down on the desk, she crossed towards his office, skirts flowing around her ankles as she did so. He had left it unlocked. Opening it, she peered inside.

She'd been in only once; he'd given strict orders to never enter, especially when he wasn't there. Swallowing hard, she looked around. Eyes widening, she noticed piles of coins; most of them gold, were the print of Spain pressed into one side. Charts and graphs littered his desk, detailing sales, and the rest of the area was covered by boxes of his products. She picked up a letter, addressed to Danse.

 

Danse ,  
Las ventas se ven bien desde este extremo . Esta es una opurtunidad perfecta , por lo que no se anda para arriba. El pueblo de ese exiguo territorio están ansiosos por tener en sus manos algunos "nuevos" productos médicos . Nuestra línea falsa de los productos tendrá éxito seguro a lo grande .

Buena suerte con eso amplio ; Si te casas con ella , ella es un boleto rápida al éxito en el Este como el Oeste . Hicimos un poco de investigación sobre ella; proviene de una familia rica de edad en Nueva York .

Mantener a la misma , no me falle o que va a ser la cabeza al lado .

-Don Pedro  
((Danse,  
The sales look good from this end. This a perfect opportunity, so don't fuck it up. The people of that meager territory are eager to get their hands on some "new" medical goods. Our phony line of products will sure hit it big. 

Good luck with that broad; if you marry her, shes a fast ticket to success in the East as well as the West. Did some researching on her; comes from a wealthy old family in New York. 

Keep at it, don't fail me or it'll be your head next.

-Don Pedro))

Her heart beating fast, she slammed it on the desk, hurrying out of the room. He was still gone; the street outside was getting dark. Anger flooded through her, a mixture aimed at herself and the man who had completely fooled her. It was a ponzy scheme. He was using her store as a front to sell phony products to get rich quick, presumably for some Spanish gang leader out East. And he planned on marrying her?! To get at her money?

She breathed hard through her nostrils as she swept the floor angrily, uncaring as her skirt tore on a loose nail.  
It wasn't even her money; it would go to her brother. She only was getting a portion of it. Or was it the name he wanted to be affliated with? She continued to sweep the floors well past needing too; ignoring the darkness as it swept into the room. She barely noticed when hooves skidded outside the clinic.

A knock at the door. Pausing from her angered sweeping, she looked up. It was getting very late, who needed clinical treatment at this hour?   
"Come in. We're still open."  
"Lucille. It's me, Arthur."

Her heart skipped a beat. She ran to the door, flinging it open. He stood on the threshold, a grin across his face. Blood covered his shirt and speckled his hands.

"Arthur! I...What happened to you?" She stood in the door frame, staring up at him, taking him in. She hadn't realized until now how much she missed him. Hearing his voice, seeing his eyes. That smile of his that seemed to crack the world open.  
"Had a run in with some coyotes. I'm alright, none of the blood is mine." His grin faded as he fixed his gaze. He reached up and cupped her cheeks. She caressed them with her hands. She missed his touch.  
"I needed to see you. I...I've been thinking a lot. I don't want you with Danse. He's all wrong for you. A snake."  
"You're right, Arthur. He's...he's only been using me." Bitterness tasted like bile in her throat. She lead him into the room by the hand.  
"Whaddya mean?" His eyes widened.  
"I mean, I was only a means to an end." She walked over to the products lined on the shelf; products made of who knows what and a complete fraud to all involved.  
"He's using my clinic as a front to a scam." She swept her arm across the shelves, knocking the bottles off which smashed on the pristine floor. Arthur's eyes narrowed.  
"He planned to marry me to take advantage of my families name, or money...or whatever."  
"I...How do you know this?" He crossed to the back room, opening the door to Danse's office.   
"Arthur, you really shouldn't be in there...he could come back any moment." Her breath caught in her throat. Anxiety wracked her, though she followed him into the room. She watched as he took in the piles of coins and boxes of products, his brow furrowing and teeth baring.  
"It's all a scam, ain't it? He's just playin' everyone for a fool." She nodded, running a finger along a shiny gold coin. It was tempting, to just take all this and run to the hills. But her conciensse got the better of her.  
"What do we do?"  
"I guess we go to the sheriff..." He dind't seem to like the idea. She asked why.  
"Why? Cause' I deal in a different type of justice." He grimaced.  
"Men like this, they don't learn from the inside of a cell. They learn through getting whats coming to them."   
"What, you're going to..." She didn't believe that Arthur would just straight up murder Danse, but the idea was, horribly enough, pleasent to her. She was livid at his disgusting plans for her and her family.  
"No. Expose him for what he is." He placed his hands on her shoulders, a strong and comforting weight.  
"The people of this town...they trust you."  
"He'd kill me, or at least hurt me." She felt powerless and weak. He crossed over to her, placing his rough hewn hands on her shoulders. His stare seemed to go through her.  
"I won't let that happen. Trust me." She couldn't help herself. All the feelings of anger, of resentment and that aching feeling of loss she had felt the long months he had been absent were let out as she kissed him, gripping the back of his head, pushing him close to her. He was surprised at first. She heard him grunt in shock, before feeling him press deeper into the kiss. They were so enraptured in each other they didn't hear the door open behind them.

"Qué diablos está pasando aquí?!" They broke apart. Danse stood in the door way. She had expected him to be with his colleagues, but they were gone. He wore a look of pure fury as he scan his gaze over the ruined shop. Arthur stepped forward, keeping Lucille behind him.

"Nothing much. Just saying hello to an old friend." He smirked, thumbing his holster. Danse spat, his hands flexing.  
"What have you done to my shop?"  
"You're shop?" Arthur laughed, stepping on a bottle of infant teething solution. It cracked under his boot heel, the contents spilling over the floor.  
"I thought it was Lucilles. Well, Dr. Dreys. But her's when he's away." He drew out a cigar, lighting it and taking a deep draw before exhaling. Danse coughed, stepping into the clinic. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was new to Lucille.  
"Lucille, get away from him." He snapped, sweeping the fallen products away with his shoes.   
"She don't take orders from you, con artist."  
Danse's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing at Arthur, who winked.  
"What, you didn't think you could play your little act forever, right? Scamming these poor souls that just want...what is it?"  
He peered at the miscellanious bottles on the floor.  
"Cough Medicine? Infant Sleep Medication?"  
"It's all phony. Fake." He jerked his his thumb behind him at the shelves.

Danse seemed a loss for words. He stared at Arthur, who smoked cooly.  
"Who let you into my office?" He asked finally, edging his way in.  
"I let myself in. I mean..." He began to pace.  
"You can't honestly think that no ones gonna get curious. You left it unlocked."

"Who the hell are you, anyways." Lucille was terrified he had a gun. Her eyes bounced from Arthur to Danse, back and forth, watching the conversation.  
"Arthur Maxson, at your service."  
Danse smiled as he heard the name.  
"You're nothing but a Longhorn Cattle Boy. You're nothing!" Arthur faultered slightly, stopping his paces.  
"You honestly think anyone is going to want your cattle? They make poor meat and bad milk, boy."

"This ain't about my cattle." He was angry now. Lucille could see the color flush in his jaw and temples.  
"This is about you using Lucille for her money." He took a step closer, grabbing Danse around the collar.  
"Her family, and her position." Before he could react, Danse was slammed against the wall. The two large men wrestled; Danse's hands on Arthur throat, and Arthurs on his.  
"The bitch had it coming!" Danse choked. He wrapped a leg around Arthurs.  
"Arthur!" Lucille cried out.  
"Don't you-!" He fell. Danse tripped him, stepping over his body and slamming his heel on his hand. She heard bones crack. Arthur cried out in pain.  
"I say what I want." He spat, turning towards Lucille. He wasn't the least bit handsome anymore. Blood pooled in his face from when Arthur had him in a chokehold, and his lips were pulled back in a snarl.   
"You've ruined everything, que conchita." She watched Arthur get up, cradling his useless hand in the other. She grabbed a broken bottle from floor.   
"I've done nothing. It was you who decided to use me for a scam. Did you honestly think I was going to let you fool people like that? What's even in these bottles?" He lunged for her, grabbing her wrist and pulling it up. She smashed the side of his face with the bottle, slicing it up the side. Blood spattered everywhere; flecks hit her face and neck, and Danse snarled, recoiling only slightly.

"I should have married you and kept you locked in the house long ago!" He lunged again, this time grabbing her shoulder and smashing her against the wall. The wind knocked out of her, all she could was watch as he slapped her. Eyes watering, she gripped the bottle, thrusting into him, but he dodged, grabbing the wrist and holding it above him.

"Drop the bottle." He breathed. She spat, tears swimming in anger.  
A shot rang out. Lucille squeezed her eyes shut, expecting pain, only to feel the pressure lift. She opened her eyes. Danse was clutching a wound in his back, eyes wide with shock. Blood poured from the gash in his head; soaking the ground below them and her shoes.

"Drop the lady. You may have shattered my main hand but I can shoot with both."  
Danse was running on pure rage and adrenaline. He lunged at Arthur, who, in his injured state, didn't dodge quick enough. They landed in a heal, blood flying everywhere, before another shot rang out. Her eyes wide, Lucille ran over to them.


	5. By the Riverside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is rated M! There is SMUT.
> 
> Very short chapter because wtf do you do after smut?

Danse lay over Arthur, his form still. Pushing him off, she looked at Arthur with worried eyes. He was bleeding; it seemed Danse had still had the bottle clutched in one hand and stabbed him in the gut, but he was alive. She gripped his face in her palms. 

"Oh...Oh Arthur." He smiled weakly, his good hand covering his wound. Glancing down, she examined it.  
"He..." He winced, trying to sit up, but Lucille stopped him.  
"He didn't have much fight left in him."   
"You're lucky...it's not very deep."  
He chuckled. "Why is it always you fixing me up?" She leaned down and kissed him deeply. She tasted blood, and sweat, and her own tears as she drank him in. She had almost lost him. Would lose him, if she didn't get to work. She pulled away, bustling around gathering materials.  
"Why did you come back?" She asked softly, as she pulled away his shirt and cleaned the wound. She'd set his hand later.  
"I told you. I...I can't let you go." He winced as she dabbed the gash with liquor.   
"I'm glad you couldn't..." she whispered. He stared.  
"I'd be stuck with him. What chance does a woman have at discrediting a man like that?"

Finished bandaging him, she pulled him up. He winced, though managed to stand.  
"Let's set your hand."

"Lucille." He started, as she tugged on his good one. She turned, her hair catching the moonlight.   
"You had every chance." 

The days passed, and none of them were absent of each other. Arthur helped settle things with the sheriff, who claimed he had doubts about Danse from the start, as well as clean up the clinic. They'd whisk away with each other in the afternoons while everyone napped, lounging against each other in the shadow of the lazy willows as clouds and dragonflies flew by.

It was one of those days where Lucille was feeling mighty comfortable. She wasn't wearing her normal skirts, instead she wore her underthings as she lay against Arthur. It wasn't proper, it was very taboo but she realized she didn't care. Arthur was also not one to take advantage of her. The more she gazed at him, the more she realized she wanted him. She didn't want to wait to consummate their inevitable marriage; she wanted him now.

"You don't think its wrong, us being out here like this?" He pulled out a cigar from his pack, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. Lucille leaned her head against his shoulder.  
"No ones around."  
"Someone could come riding any moment." He grinned as he exhaled, hearing her scoff.   
"You and I are the only people for miles. Only Ele is here to judge us." She curled up on his lap. All she wanted was to feel close. She had let him slip away before, and now...  
His arms wrapped around her.   
"Something tells me she won't do much judging." He kissed her shoulder, covered as it was by satin sleeves.   
She turned around suddenly, her fingers like ghosts upon his cheeks. How badly he wanted to kiss her. To make love to her. To prove that she was his.  
"I don't want to wait. I know its wrong. Its not proper but." She glanced down at herself. Arthur smiled. He kissed her neck, moving his lips down to her collar bone. 

"I don't want to wait either. Besides, we're hardly proper people." He winked. She grinned, pulling of his hat. His hair spilled out, covering his eyes which she promptly brushed away. They shone in the bright afternoon sun. She bent to kiss him, while his hands moved up to her bosom, fingers itching at hem of her slip. She allowed him the pleasure of undressing her; nimble fingers working the fine strings. Her breasts spilled out; he cupped them in his hands as he kissed her.

Feelings, white hot feelings filled her. She was doing something so awfully wrong; so immoral, but she couldn't stop. She loved this man so much; she was going to marry him anyways, what was the point in waiting? Still, she was nervous. Nervous about being so exposed, nervous about being caught. If she was seen, her reputation as a doctor, as a trusted person in the small community would be ruined forever. She pushed it all to the back of her mind as she pressed in his kiss.

Their tongues writhed together as Arthur pulled down the rest of her garment. She kicked it free, exposing her naked body to the elements. He pulled away, cupping her chin with one hand and gazing at her. His smile was gone, instead his eyes blazed as he looked at her. She saw passion in his eyes, mixed with love and longing. She picked at the buttons of his shirt, undoing the first couple before he released her, standing up and undressing. She sat there, legs crossed, feeling free. Watching him undress was extremely erotic, and she allowed herself the pleasure of taking in his very naked body. He was very well built; muscle all too hidden under his clothes now burst forth. She licked her lips, lust filling her. She let it overcome her.

Ele looked up from grazing, her eyes uncaring and nonjudgmental. Birds sang above them, the river bubbled a chorus, and the wind whispered in the willows boughs. It couldn't get any more romantic.  
He pulled down his chaps and trousers, releasing his aching member which sprang free from its prison. He was excited, giddy even. The last time he'd done this was a very long time ago, with a whore in Bethesda. This was...very different. This was something so much more important. He bent down, pulling her towards him, cherishing her giggle. He ran his chapped fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead, nose, and lips. She let out a tantalizing moan that sent shivers throughout his body. He cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples, before positioning himself above her.   
"Are you...sure?" He asked, hesitating. She nodded, spreading her legs. The sight made him want to bury himself to the hilt, but he held back, wetting the tip before slowly pushing in. She squealed, gripping his arms, and he bent forward with a passionate kiss. He stopped, alarmed.

"Just keep going." she whispered in his ear, her voice husky. He grinned into her shoulder. He fell into a steady rhythm, listening to her grunts and sighs for instruction. He couldn't keep his lips off hers. Her hands gripped his ass, his ran themselves through her hair and under her body, rolling her on top of him. She laughed, pulling away from his kiss. He quit thrusting for a moment, just to look at her. She traced the outline of his scar with one finger as she looked at him.

"This what you wanted?" She asked. He didn't respond right away. Just continued to gaze at her, before answering.  
"You're everything I've ever wanted in a woman." She pressed him into her, a smile pressed into his chest as he continued. He was incredibly close to coming; moans escaped him with every thrust. He ground into her, alarmed when she suddenly shrieked and clamped her legs around him. She bit down on his shoulder, catapulting him over the edge as he pulled out, spilling over her stomach.   
He sat there for moment, breathing hard, looking at her. Her chest heaved, breasts covered in beads of sweat that shone in the sunlight. He moved towards her, laying down beside her. She ran her hands down his stomach, caressing the soft hair that covered his body, while he wiped the mess he'd made off her belly with a kerchief he'd retrieved from his discard pants. He nuzzled her, and she curled up close, her face pressed into his neck, breathing deeply.

"Do you think...we'll regret it?" She pressed her palm to his hand, forming a steeple. He latched his fingers into hers.  
"I'll never regret this moment, Lucy." She smiled.  
"Didn't think so."

 

They laid there for quite some time. The sun shifted across the sky; insects hummed their earthly chorus. The river sang as it babbled over rocks. Ele snorted softly; the only witness to this event. Finally, Arthur made to pack up.  
"Where are you staying? The Inn?" She asked, as she put on her brassiere.   
"Planned on sleeping in my saddle." He responded, tying the blanket to Ele. She frowned.  
"I can't let you do that. Let me set you up in a room. No one will know." Arthur looked at her.  
"It's alright Lucille. I've slept in the saddle many a time; prefer it to a bed." She grinned wryly, smoothing her skirts as she finished dressing.

"Don't tell me we'll always be making love in the grand outdoors." He grinned in turn.  
"Don't give me ideas." He strode over to her and picked her up, swinging her around.   
"We will wed next week. Rain or shine." He spoke quickly, before she could interrupt.  
"I want you to be my wife. I can't let you slip away like that again." He entwined her fingers in his. Rough hewn hands against delicate, dainty ones. She looked at him. Really looked at him. He was so serious, so scared to lose her. She stood up to kiss him.

"I promise you, my Arthur. I will never leave your side again. He pressed his forehead to hers as she spoke, her voice barely a whisper:  
"You are my everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a lot of fun to write. Got me out of the block I had writing this. I'm really hoping ya'll enjoy. Who knows; after this is done I may sprinkle in other fics about these two.
> 
> I have this amazing friend who drew for this fic!
> 
> https://67.media.tumblr.com/1ae3186d3239184958626f870d5913d8/tumblr_o9kc5iDquS1v1kuieo1_540.jpg
> 
> Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> So this began as a conversation, and I stitched it together (Pun not intended) to create a fic out of, as I ended up liking. That's why the formatting is a bit odd. I could rework it but I feel it would lose its overall mood and feel. This will be a short fic; I'm planning 6 chapters. I promised my lassies a sex scene, so expect some smut later on down the line.
> 
> Fun times indeed.


End file.
